


Loud and Tired Minds | Fred Weasley

by WillowRose99



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fred Weasley Lives, Fred Weasley has trauma, Fred Weasley needs a hug, Fred has PTSD, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:02:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29940756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowRose99/pseuds/WillowRose99
Summary: After the Wizarding War, Fred is barely holding on to who he is, the sounds in his head booming like thunder and sleep escaping him. But thankfully, he has you to hold him when he needs it the most. And tonight he needs it, more than ever.WARNINGS: Alive!Fred, mentions of PTSD sypmtoms, full of angst!
Relationships: Fred Weasley & Reader, Fred Weasley & You, Fred Weasley/Reader, Fred Weasley/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Loud and Tired Minds | Fred Weasley

Sometimes, the world was cruel to the one’s who deserved the most love, took pleasure from their pain, humour out of their sorrow, and after all the events of the Second Wizarding War, Fred Weasley felt as if he was a shell of his former self. He was no longer the happy, mischievous man that he used to identify as; instead, now he felt trapped in a horror that wouldn’t end, under a pile of rubble and covered in blood in a way that made him feel as if he were suffocating. 

The nights were the worst, when the light fell outside and everything turned dark, shadows looming in the corner of his eye as the temperature seemed to plummet around him. Now he did everything in his power to try and stay awake during the night and catch small breaks and naps throughout the day. But it wasn’t working anymore, and he could no longer conceal the deep and dark circles under his eyes or how grew and tense and jumpy when night-time came. 

It was the worst during winter when the world seemed bleak and cold and stuck in a perpetual misery, and even though he had Christmas orders at the shop to fulfill, a store filled with students on their holiday break and a Christmas Day to organise, he couldn’t seem to focus, and finally, stubbornly, and reluctantly, he allowed you to help him, to care for him when he most needed it. 

It happened a week before Christmas when a storm passed over London and caused the people of Diagon Alley to seek shelter. It had been a busy month already, and when Fred sluggishly walked into the bedroom he shared with you above the shop in the small apartment. Undoing his tie and shrugging off his suit jacket, he sat down on the bed with a large sigh, head in his hands as he willed the pain to go away. 

“Another long day, Freddie?” You spoke softly from the doorway, leaning against its frame as you looked at your boyfriend, concern etched across your face. He glanced up at you, surprised since he didn’t know you had gotten home already. 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Doesn’t help that I’m exhausted and there’s a bloody storm going on outside.” He ducked down to unlace his shoes and kick them to the other side of the room before unbuttoning his shirt, not bothering to take it off as he reached out to you. 

You came willingly, always welcoming the warm grasp of his large hands, melting into the embrace as he pressed the side of his head into your stomach, arms wrapping around your waist. The both of you stayed there for a couple moments as he breathed deep and shut his eyes, your hand running through his ginger hair that had grown long again.

“I promised George I would help him with some orders tonight. We’re way behind and if we don’t get a whole lot sent out tonight, heaps of people won’t get their gifts in time for Christmas.” Fred muttered those words against the material of the sweater you were wearing, one of his with a knitted F on the front. 

“I can go help George, Fred. You need rest.” You leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head, hand gliding over his back, but he shook his head at your statement. 

“No, no, I can do it. I’m alright, I’ll sleep later.” He tried to pull away from you, but you would only let him go so far, taking his large hands in yours and squeezing them gently. He looked up at you, catching the glint of worry in your eyes and he could only look away again, avoiding eye contact so he didn’t have to face the reality that he really did need help, really did need sleep and maybe even a warm body to hold him.

“Fred, you haven’t slept more than two or three hours since…well, you know when. And I can tell you’re exhausted and in pain.” He shook his head, wanting to reject your statement and stood up quickly, pulling away from you to yank off his dress shirt and slip on an old t-shirt. 

“Sweetheart, not tonight. Please, not tonight.” His words were firm, the tone harsh even if the language was gentle. But you couldn’t stop now, you had become sick of waiting for him to figure everything out, the figure out what he needed when you and even George knew right now, Fred needed a good night’s sleep and a comforting touch. And in his own mind, Fred knew he didn’t want you to stop, didn’t want to fight the sleep ending more and he wanted you to pull him into bed, it was just his body that was stopping him, survival instincts kicking in full throttle when there was nothing to be afraid of. Not in this room. 

“Darling, I know every night when you can’t sleep you go downstairs and sort out the shop until the sun comes up, I know you nearly work yourself to death when you think no one is watching, and I know, deep down in my heart, that you’re only doing it because you’re afraid of what you’ll see when you close your eyes, when you let yourself sleep.” Your voice was soft as you stepped towards him, coming up to stand by his side as he leaned against the dresser and clutch the edge of it with his hands, knuckles going white. “Fred, I know you’re going through so much pain right now, and I just want to help.” He glanced at you, biting his lip as you could see the pent-up emotion ready to burst out, and when he looked away you heard a quiet sob escape. 

“It just…the noises and the smell and everything else won’t go away.” His body shook as he spoke, eyes clenched shut and mouth pulled into a firm line. You didn’t dare touch him because his body was acting like a powder keg ready to explode on impact, and you didn’t want to push him further than you had already. But you needed to hear what he had to say.

“What noises and smells, baby? Tell me, it’s okay.” His arms were shaky, trying to hold him up stead as he started to speak.

“I can just hear people screaming and crying, and everything sounds like it’s exploding around me. Merlin, there’s so much fire and smoke that it makes my eyes water and…and I can’t move, Y/N. I’m trapped and I can hear people calling out for help and I can’t-.”

“You can’t reach them to save them, can you?” Fred shakes his head, more sobs escaping as you take him in your arms then, wrapping around his frame to pull him into you as sit back down on the bed, his body cradled in yours. His face is pressed into the side of your neck, hands coming around your back to grip your sweater and tears rolling down the skin of your shoulder as he cries, hacking sobs that make his whole-body shudder as he clutches you tightly. 

“I can’t save them, Y/N. I couldn’t save them… I could barely save myself.” 

“Shh, Fred, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you and I’m not going to let anything happen to you, not tonight, not ever again.” He didn’t respond to your promise, but you could tell that something shifted through the way that his breathing started to slowly even out and he swept a hand underneath the back of your shirt to feel your warm skin against his cold palm. 

The two of you stayed like that for nearly half an hour, waiting for the tears to subside and for Fred to feel ready to face the world again. The wind howled outside, and rain pelted the windows with a drumming sound, but in that moment, neither of you could hear a single sound apart from your gentle breathing and the way that Fred hummed softly into the material of your shirt. It took him a while for the ginger haired man to speak, but when he did his voice was soft and raspy, big eyes looking up at you as he still clutched you close.

“Do you really mean what you said? That you would stay with me?” His eyes were filled with so much hope and fear at the same time, and you couldn’t help but let out a small smile, hand sweeping through his hair as you pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

“I will stay with you, Fred Weasley, until the end of our days. I promise you that like I promise I will love you forever.” He grinned a sweet grin at you, closing his eyes once again as he adjusted himself and leaned his forehead against yours, entangling his fingers in yours, thumb tracing the skin of the top of your hand.

“Merlin, I love you and I’m so thankful to have you in my life.” He littered kisses over your face then, warm lips on your skin and caused you to blush like you were a teenager again. And then he kissed you right on the lips, slow and gentle and so meaningful that it sucked the breath out of you before you even remembered you needed to breathe. When he pulled away, tiredness struck him hard, eyes fluttering shut as sleep attempted to overwhelm him. You smiled down at him, hand running over his cheek, moving the both of you so that he finally collapsed under the covers of the bed, still in his work pants but too comfy to complain. 

“C’mon, Freddie. It’s time for you to get some well-deserved rest.” He nods, resting his head on your chest right over your heart, the sound of your heartbeat quickly lulling him into a sleep that he had longed for. 

“You’ll be here when I wake up? You’ll hold me?” You pulled the covers up further so that the two of you were engulfed up to your chins, and he hummed contently as you pressed another kiss to his hairline.

“I’ll be here, Fred, I’m not going to ever let you go.” He nodded against your chest, happy with your truthful answer, and curled his tall frame into yours, legs tangled with yours and arms around your waist like some sort of lanky octopus.

Some nights are not perfect, they’re not calm, or content and they don’t feel safe. Other nights, like the ones Fred is starting to have more of, are filled with love and want and security that he’s longed for ever since that awful night at Hogwarts. And though some days the world is harsh and the sounds pound in his head like an ever-constant reminder of the worst day of his life, Fred Weasley always knows that you’ll be there to wrap your arms around him, saving him from his own mind sometimes, and promising to be there every time the world became too dark, too loud, and too scary for the man who had already suffered so much. That was everything he could hope, and so much more.


End file.
